Atomic Power

Our first reaction to the atomic bomb is inevitably one of horror. And yet—with the horror there is also a certain hope. Here is an appalling new danger for mankind; but here also is an immense potentiality for good. Indeed, the bomb may actually force us to found a World State. It has at least awakened the public.

Consider the prospect if we fail to organize control. First, war has been revolutionized. The first atomic bomb is some two thousand times as powerful as the old high-explosive bomb, though perhaps only a tenth of its weight. The next will be a thousand times as powerful as the first—that is, two million times as powerful as the old bomb; there may be submarine bombs. Warships, bombers and armies become futile. We may have atomic rockets with atomic noses, and a war waged increasingly against machines. War will depend wholly upon vast scientific research and organization, and upon having a great area over which industry and population can be dispersed. Such warfare will therefore be possible only to the mightiest states.

Secondly, without international organization the issue would be a Russo-American war. Cities would be snuffed out. Material civilization would be destroyed. Whole lands would be devastated, and famine would follow.

Is defence possible? Perhaps, but only by going underground into shelters miles deep, blasted out by atomic power and refrigerated by atomic power. Conceivably one might attempt some defence by exploding distant bombs against the attack; but there the danger would be extreme.

Haldane has suggested that this may possibly be a general law of nature: creatures which win atomic power before they have unified their planet destroy themselves.

There is another side to the matter. If atomic power can be controlled, we may reach a condition in which, for many practical purposes, money is no object. Power would become a sort of universal skivvy—a servant capable of doing an immense part of the world’s drudgery.

Let us turn to the peaceful use of atomic power. At present this is impossible. Everything depends upon damping the explosion, controlling the release of energy and grading it down for industrial work. We are promised this within a few years, if all goes well; but the scientists are rightly cautious in their promises.

There is, moreover, a limited supply of uranium. It will not go on for ever. What happens when it has all been used? There is the possibility of obtaining power from other atoms—from other radioactive substances, and perhaps ultimately from atoms which are ordinarily stable. But here a very grave danger appears. If we learn to explode stable atoms, the explosion is infectious; it might spread through ordinary matter and destroy the planet. One is reminded of the asteroids.

But suppose controlled use does become possible. What then? We should have access to limitless power, for good or ill. We might transform the planet. We could irrigate deserts; warm the Arctic and Antarctic; alter coastlines; remove obstructing mountains—though, I should insist, we must preserve wild places; change climates; found new islands; divert rivers; and build many glorious cities. But there is a little difficulty in that last proposal: we must first know what is glorious.

There might also be private atomic aeroplanes for everyone. Vastly increased scientific research might abolish disease, prolong maturity and improve childbirth. And atomic power might make interplanetary travel practicable.

The immediate practical need is to entrust the atomic secret and the control of its use to the Security Council of the United Nations—or, if that body proves inadequate, to some better international authority. World control of armaments is at least possible—and indeed inevitable. Such control must include universal inspection.

We ought to attend very seriously to the protest of some six hundred scientists. They fear not only deliberate atomic war, but accident arising from irresponsible experiment. Every country, it seems, is researching—and researching in a hurry. Argentine Nazis are on the track; there is also the Japanese professor.

What folly this secrecy is—and for a mere five years! And with it, American isolationism.

The First Industrial Revolution was obsessed with the glamour of power. Power was the astonishing new toy. The machine dazzled us, and we too readily supposed that whatever increased mechanical power must somehow increase human well-being. The Second Industrial Revolution may be very different. Power will be cheap—ordinary, trivial. If that happens, we may perhaps cease worshipping power and turn again to the spirit.

Power without wisdom: the gift is futile and lethal unless we use it wisely and with a clear view of the right aim.

The application of science has hitherto fulfilled much of what Bacon prophesied. If Bacon could see our world, he would find both good and bad. He would see improvements in health and nutrition, in communications and in education. But he would also see unemployment, war and tyranny. What went wrong? I should say that two things went wrong. We had no clear view of the goal, and we made no resolute plan for reaching it. We left it all to the profit motive.

And yet—atomic power may force us to learn wisdom, because otherwise man destroys himself. Its first lesson is world unification: the sovereign national state has become too dangerous. Its second lesson is the need for a world-plan for human welfare—for food and all the other conditions which give every individual the opportunity of full humanity. Its third lesson is that we must form a clearer view of what “full humanity” means. Its fourth is that power is not intrinsically good.

What, then, is the goal in more detail? Every child must have a fair chance to develop into a splendid man or woman. That means the best available food, an adequate health service, genuine education and decent living conditions. Every adult also must have the opportunity of full development, together with suitable work and enough leisure to become a wide-awake citizen.

This implies a revolution in education. We must educate for personality, for community and for world-feeling.

Atomic power enables this educational revolution. It can help us to create a world of aristocrats—of the best possible men and women.

But education alone is ineffective. The social background is powerful. Frustration breeds fascism.

Atomic power can abolish economic frustration.

Why is work necessary? It is necessary because every individual should participate in the common venture of making the best of mankind. But working hours must be short. Leisure therefore is necessary: necessary for responsible democracy, for keeping in touch with society and for taking part in voluntary social action.

The goal involves diversity among citizens and among groups, not uniformity. It is personality-in-community: differences preserved within mutual awareness, so that they enrich one another. But diversity alone is not enough. Imagination and intelligence are also needed, so that different persons and groups may attain mutual insight.

Let us consider the short-term social effects of atomic power. We may expect a Second Industrial Revolution. First, all methods of production will change. Goods will be produced more easily and efficiently. Does that mean vast unemployment? Yes—unless we plan, and unless the state accepts responsibility for every individual.

Secondly, world organization is required for the generation of atomic power, if its full potentiality is to be released. Thirdly, can cheap power nevertheless be made available everywhere? That may depend upon improved electrical transmission or improved accumulators. Synthetic products may also be made from raw materials which are universally obtainable—compare Richard Palmer.

The result may be a new village industry. Ford’s new move towards domestic industry points in this direction: industry carried on in the home, with home electric power.

There is, however, a danger of “denaturing” man. Human nature was adapted to a primitive environment. We ought therefore to preserve much of the primitive world for relaxation—moorland, mountain, jungle and other wild places.

There are also remoter possibilities. With immensely improved research, itself based upon atomic power, we might eventually create special human types for special environments—not merely to endure those environments, but to enjoy them. We might, if necessary, produce subterranean types capable of living in the hot depths of the planet. An Arctic type? No—better to warm the Arctic.

More remarkable still would be special human types for other planets. For Mars there might be men adapted to a rare atmosphere. On Venus it might first be necessary to establish vegetation capable of producing oxygen. On Jupiter and the other massive planets we might require stocky men capable of resisting greater gravity.

Why bother about such enterprises? Not for the sake of mere power, but because diversity is enriching. Other things being equal, and provided that mutual insight is preserved, the more different kinds of human being and human experience there are, the richer mankind becomes.

But we must remember the littleness of man. Our whole solar system is minute. The sun is only one among the stars; the stars are gathered in galaxies; and the galaxies themselves are only parts of the whole.

During the Battle of Britain there was a very strong sense of doom. Then the German war ended, and one felt, “Things will go on after all.” The bombs used against Japan brought back the sense of doom.

Let me summarize the argument. The experience of the Battle of Britain prepares us emotionally for the atomic situation, but atomic weapons have revolutionized war. There is the question of American secrecy, and there are the protesting scientists. International control is essential; and here we may recall Haldane’s suggested law, that a species which acquires atomic power before unifying its planet destroys itself.

Atomic energy may inaugurate a Second Industrial Revolution. But the decisive question is the wise use of that energy. We are rather like Aladdin suddenly put in command of an overwhelming servant. Bacon’s dream of science serving human life may be fulfilled on a scale he could not have imagined; but only if the servant is given wise orders. We may transform the planet, though we must beware of denaturing man. We must define the true goal. And in the remoter future we may even undertake interplanetary travel.

What of Britain in an atomic war? Would Britain become the Stalingrad of such a conflict? For this island the result would be certain destruction. Only two great geographical units, with areas for dispersal, could survive an atomic struggle.

And later, with the perfected hydrogen bomb, even that advantage might disappear. The issue would then be instant mutual destruction.

This sheet contains only the Liverpool University Library archive stamp and the reference STAP. F11/26.